BRATTLEBORO — The kids want me to lock them in the attic. I know I'm supposed to say no, but this strikes me as a once in a lifetime opportunity.
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The public pool is open, if you were wondering why the liquor store shelves of the world are empty.
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Can someone please make a mildew-resistant Barbie? It looks like a Walking Dead casting call on my shower floor.
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I just found three of the kids, completely naked and in a line, peeing on the fence. In case you are wondering why we never get invited to the Hamptons.
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I thought, “Today's going to be a great day!” right before pouring my kid's Cheerios into my cup of coffee.
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Children really are magical. They can make problems appear out of thin air and make all of their most important possessions disappear without a trace.
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-“Mama, you're going to be the monkey, and I'm going to be the witch.”
-“Okay, so am I your monkey or just some random monkey?”
-“You're a dead monkey.”
Shit just got weird.
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My mom superpower? Well, I'm pretty sure I could flip French toast sticks using only my fingers on the surface of the sun. (Fists on hips and sideways superhero stare.)
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I just wiped my face with a towel I earlier used to clean up peanut butter. Whoever said the brain cells you lose during pregnancy come back is a filthy liar.
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The very best pairing with a 2011 Cabernet is a 2010 Crying Toddler.
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If I had a dollar for every time I had to explain to my 3-year-old why she can't marry her brother, they could have a really lavish wedding reception.
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Goosebumps is now on Netflix if you want to watch your kids pretend not to be scared, flip out over the disturbing number of mom jeans, and spend most of each episode explaining what a Walkman is.
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My mother's helper tells me that being in our home allows her to release her inner child. She's 13. My inner child is older than her actual age.
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Amusement parks are kid tranquilizer darts. Expensive, loud tranquilizer darts that smell of cashed-out IRAs, regret, and cotton candy.
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All the parents smile authentic smiles, wave, and nod as we pass one another in the hallways followed by our screaming children. Knowing it's not just your kids? Priceless.
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Being a parent is a lot like reporting the weather. No matter how many times you get the details wrong, you still get to keep the job.
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Things I learned at breakfast this morning:
1) Snakes are just lizards who got tired of having legs.
2) Rapunzel Camp is a place people to go if they are having a hard time growing their hair.
3) If you put bananas in yogurt, they die because they are caught in quicksand.
4) If we all have to use the bathroom at the same time, it's a magic spell.
5) Kids are certifiably insane.
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Play-Doh, for those days when you feel like you just aren't spending enough quality time scraping shit out of your carpet.
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While shopping, I turned around to find my daughter on a store shelf gnawing through the plastic of a bag of marshmallows like a rat. At least one of us is going to survive the apocalypse.
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When I lived in Los Angeles, I used a delivery service called Pink Dot. I kid you not: At 12:30 a.m., you could order a custom sandwich, a pregnancy test, a bag of Doritos, ice cream, and a six-pack, just in case the pregnancy test was negative.
How is this not everywhere?
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If you teach a man to fish, he will eat for a lifetime. If you teach a toddler that pooping in a toilet equals a lollipop, they will spread their poop over 22 bathroom breaks and you will run out of lollipops. This is the word of Mom. Amen.
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I got a text from a dear friend today that said, “Today is one of those days where you want to cry because you feel so ineffective as a parent and no one listens.”
And I replied, “Sister, every day is that day for me. You're an amazing mom.”
So, to anyone feeling this today: You are not alone. And you're an amazing parent. The End.